Harry and the Hostage
by LynstHolin
Summary: DRARRY Written for a dA contest with the theme of Danger. On the job as an Auror, Harry is taken hostage by a dark wizard and he ends up being tied up back-to-back with Draco.


Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rolwing, and I make no money from this

...

Harry pursued the dark wizard known as Greasy Pete down Diagon Alley and into Gringotts, not able to use any spells to bring him down because of the throngs of back-to-school shoppers. A stunning spell strong enough to knock down a full-grown man could seriously harm a child if it went astray. Once inside the bank, the fugitive leapt over a counter. A startled elderly witch had her wand out, and when she saw Harry come running in her direction, she hit him with a Confundus. By the time his mind cleared, Harry's wand was gone, and he'd been bound by an Incarcerous. The fugitive had his wand pressed to Harry's neck. "Come any closer, and the famous Harry Potter is dead!" the man shouted, stopping two other Aurors in their tracks.

Greasy Pete dragged Harry backwards. It was quite awkward, as Harry was bound back-to-back with another person who must have been a little too close when Harry was hit with the Incarcerous. Harry trod on the other hostage's foot, and a man's voice cursed. _Bloody hell_. This did not look good. This did not look good at all. Harry Potter, experienced Auror, taken hostage by a trifling Voldemort-wannabe.

The dark wizard tossed Harry and his companion into a counting room. "If my demands aren't met within an hour, I'll kill the other hostage!" he shouted just before he stepped into the small room and slammed the door.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there are an awful lot of people who would like to see me dead. You might as well let me go," drawled a familiar sounding voice.

"_Malfoy_?"

"What a lovely reunion, eh, Potter?"

"Shut it!" Their captor kicked at them, then went back to shouting through a flap in the door. "I want a dragon, a tamed one that I can fly away on. It had better be wearing a saddle and bridle. Also, I want two thousand Galleons and a ham sandwich."

"They might actually think my life is worth a ham sandwich," said Draco, "But there's no way they're giving you the dragon and the money."

"Shut your gob, nancy-boy." Greasy Pete aimed a shocking hex at Malfoy, and got Harry, too.

"I can handle 'queer' and 'ponce,' but 'nancy-boy' is just going too far."

"Malfoy, are you_ trying _to provoke him to kill you? I'm right in the line of fire, you know."

The dark wizard had had enough. He Langlocked both of them. Which was too bad, because at the moment, Harry had lots of things that he wanted to say to Malfoy. Stealthily, he began testing his bonds. When Greasy Pete began shouting through the flap again, demanding firewhiskey and a big-bosomed hooker, Harry wiggled until he got enough slack to move his right arm slightly. He was able to touch Malfoy's palm with one fingertip. _Do you understand,_ he traced.

One of Malfoy's fingers skimmed across Harry's hand. _Yes_.

_We have to work together_, Harry 'wrote'.

_I know_.

It was a strangely intimate way of communicating. The feeling of the other man's touch gave Harry a shivery feeling. Probably because Harry'd been single for so long. Too long. _When his back turned wiggle but dont make noise_, Harry signed. Malfoy's warm back moved against Harry's. It felt like the blond man had filled out quite a bit in the years since Harry had seen him last; he was no longer the gaunt boy who'd looked so weary and frightened in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts. Their upper arms were touching, and Harry could feel strong biceps flexing.

_U smell good_, Malfoy signed.

Because of the Langlock, Harry's laugh came out as a snort. _Great time to chat me up._

Malfoy signed, _I may be dead soon and u look good in uniform_.

_What about ur boyfriend_. Harry kept up with the gossip the the Daily Prophet, and knew about the handsome young man that Draco had been living with.

_Kicked golddigger out_.

Harry was working at getting his feet under him. _Can u stand up_.

_Not yet_. Malfoy's hand moved a few inches and squeezed Harry's bottom.

Harry started feeling hot all over. U_ called me ugly scarhead in school_.

_I was idiot_.

"Holding hands?" their captor said in disgust, "I can't believe I ended up with two shirt-lifters. If I catch either of you eyeing me up, I'll hit you both with a Conjunctivitis Curse."

Malfoy signed, _I rather shag a shaved bear_. Harry snorted again. Greasy Pete was a singularly unappealing creature. Rumor had it he hadn't bathed since the First Wizarding War.

A ham sandwich was levitated through the door flap. The dark wizard examined it closely and performed poison-checking spells, then wolfed it down, chewing with his mouth open and spewing crumbs everywhere. A bottle of firewhiskey followed. Greasy Pete eagerly uncorked it, dribbling down his front. "That hooker better be coming next," he hollered. He belched and scratched his bum while he waited.

_Sexy isnt he_, Malfoy traced. Harry could feel the other man moving his legs. _I can stand now_.

_When I shout stand up then put your legs out at ninety degree angle trust me_.

_Dont have choice_.

_Ready_.

_Yes_.

Harry bellowed as best he could around his locked tongue, and, pressing against each others' backs for leverage, the two men rose to their feet. Draco raised his legs, and Harry spun, hitting their surprised captor in the head with Draco's feet. The bottle of firewhiskey was jammed deeply into Greasy Pete's gullet, and he fell to the floor choking. Harry's maneuver had loosened the ropes that bound him to Draco to the point where he could just shrug his way out of them. He got his wand back from Pete and undid the Langlock. When he flung the counting room door open, the other Aurors rushed in and took care of the dark wizard.

That was when he noticed what Malfoy was slipping out of the right sleeve of his dove grey turtleneck. "You had your wand all along?"

Draco grinned mischievously, tucking a lock of chin-length hair behind one ear. Not only had he filled out beautifully, he'd gotten taller. His facial features had become more defined, his cheekbones perfectly chiselled and his jawline strong. "Don't be angry. I just thought that if I approached you directly, you'd walk away. It's not like that swine would have actually killed me." He reached out and took the hand he'd been stroking words onto for the last half hour. "Let me make it up to you by treating you to lunch." _More than lunch_, he signed.

Harry was angry, but he was also intrigued. And, frankly, a bit turned on from the intimacy of the past thirty minutes. "You nearly got yourself killed so you could ask me on a date?"

"Have you looked at yourself lately?"

"Are you out of your mind, Malfoy?"

"Quite possibly. Say you'll go out with me, or I'll have to get myself taken hostage again."

...

From the 'Scarlette's Sin-tillating Scoops' gossip column, The Daily Prophet, October 21, 2005:

'Opposites Attract?

The famous Harry Potter is shacking up in a Chelsea flat with former enemy Draco Malfoy. Black hair, white hair; Gryffindor, Slytherin; former Death-Eater, slayer of Voldemort. Can these two make their romance work? Scarlette will be the first to let you know.'

There was a picture of Scarlette at the top of her column. She had a lot of hair and a lot of cleavage. Draco drew a mustache on her. "Damned nuisance of a woman."

"She's better than Rita Skeeter. At least she doesn't just make things up." Harry reached over Draco's shoulder and flipped the paper back to the front page. "Let me read that story about Greasy Pete." Harry read a few sentences, then gasped.

"What?"

"He took three other prisoners hostage in Azkaban, and he killed them all." Draco looked like he was about to throw up his breakfast, and Harry laughed. "No, I'm just kidding. It turns out he has three wives."

"That was _not funny_." Draco read the paper in frigid silence for ten minutes. Finally, he said, "You're never going to let me live it down, are you."

Harry pulled Draco in for a kiss. "Not a chance."


End file.
